Page 54 of Obsession

I also didn’t alter my stance. If she saw what she’d caused, so be it.

“What services would you like to render, Ms. Copeland?” I asked softly as color rose in her cheeks. She would flush everywhere I knew, beyond the collarbone-bearing top she wore to the curve of her breasts. To the tight little nipples that beaded for me just from the mere question.

“I didn’t buy lunch because I brought my own. I don’t need a stipend.” She glanced again at the harbor beneath us and pressed her lush lips together. I wanted to bite the lower one until it bloomed red like the rest of her. “Besides, you all order out all the time. You must live in the gym to look like…” She waved a hand. “That.”

“I run,” I said simply. “Usually in the mornings, though I’ve skipped a few recently.”

I also didn’t tell her that I’d taken to running at night when I couldn’t sleep.

Entirely due to her.

“It’s the holiday season. Time to eat, drink and be merry.” I’d said it to be sarcastic—I didn’t celebrate holidays and hadn’t since childhood—but the quick flare in her eyes made me grip the edge of the desk. “Do you not celebrate?”

“Celebrate what? Christmas? It’s not Christmas yet. And Thanksgiving—no, I don’t do that anymore, either.” Her gaze snapped to mine, and I was amazed that sparks didn’t go off between us. She was angry at me again, and I didn’t know why. “I just work, okay? I want this to be about work. No fun lunches, no talk of holidays I can’t celebrate.”

Not don’t celebrate.Can’tcelebrate.

That was a different thing altogether.

Whether the reasons were financial or emotional didn’t much matter. Not if I could try to do something to alleviate even a fraction of the turbulence in her expression.

When I didn’t reply, she pivoted and walked out.

I was getting really tired of her walking away from me. Mostly because I watched her go, every damn time.

I returned to my desk and picked up the phone. For once, I didn’t overanalyze what I was going to do. She had a habit of causing those kinds of reckless actions in me, and I was going to have to put a stop to it.

Eventually.

“Next Friday, I want to hold a company-wide Thanksgiving banquet. Yes, less than two weeks before the holiday. I’m well-aware it’ll be a scheduling nightmare, Jack, but that’s why I called you. You’re the king of your domain, right? You know how to get these things done. Or better yet, know who to contact to do them for you.”

Jack’s sigh almost made me smile. “What about that brand-spanking-new assistant of yours? Isn’t this more under her purview than mine? Not to mention she can actually tolerate your ass, unlike me.”

For a moment, I wondered if I’d imagined the knowing tone of Jack’s voice. Had Violet blabbed what she’d seen to her best buddy?

As soon as I considered the idea, I dismissed it. That woman was a vault, and sticky fingers Hollister didn’t have the combination.

“This isn’t for Grace. She’s involved with other things. Can you make it happen or not?”

“You do realize you’ve held company-wide events that aren’t work-related approximately never, right?”

“I know that. Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf.”

Jack snorted. “Yeah, and maybe I’m the Sugar Plum Fairy. Wanna see my tights?”

“I’ll pass,” I said drily. “Make it happen.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Whatever you say, sir. Anything else I can do for you, sir?”

I had to laugh. The guy was such an asshole. This time, he just happened to be right.

“Yes. Make sure Ms. Copeland attends.”

Before he could mull over that statement, I hung up.

Chapter Nineteen

After eating half the corned beef sandwich and all the pickles, I wrapped up the other half and stuck it in the employee fridge. I labeled it “for anyone who wants it” hoping Grace might eat it, but I was acting like enough of a pussy. If she didn’t want the damn sandwich, she didn’t have to eat it.

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